The Amazing John Nash
by Nitesh
Summary: [A Beautiful Mind] Everyone was laughing at me... But then, driving home, Charles was there with me. Sometimes I really miss talking to him...


**_The world needs people like you and me who've been knocked around by fate.  
'Cause when people see us, they don't want to be us, and that makes them feel great..._**

_- Schadenfreude, Avenue Q_

**I watched 'A Beautiful Mind' about sixty times over the past few months and I absolutely adore Charles. So of course I have to write a fic dedicated to this sadly underappreciated movie. And so, I give you...**

**The Amazing John Nash**

**Enjoy.**

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"_Ladies and gentlemen, the amazing John Nash!"_

He slams the door of his car with such force that the vehicle wobbles dangerously. Parcher's words still ring in his ears, and for a moment John Nash simply sits there, staring at the steering wheel with apathy. For one second he considers not even leaving, to just sit there, staring away, lost...

He snaps back to reality and, reclaiming his old fury, starts the car.

"John."

His neck twitches, and he blinks, but he gives no other outward sign of having heard the voice next to him. Charles sighs, twisting in his seat like a child forced to sit still and behave for an extended amount of time. He leans forward, peering into John's face, then falls back, still studying him, but now with a passive look on his face. Emotional detachment.

"Seat belt, Nash."

John is quiet for a second, hunched over the steering wheel, the knuckles of his hands white as he stares blankly over the parking lot. Then, _almost_ obediently, he reaches back and buckles his seat belt. He catches Charles' eye for a moment, but then quickly looks away, pretending not to notice.

Pretending to be _sane_.

Charles was hurt. But he knew that arguing with him, forcing John to believe he was truly real would only hurt _him_ worse.

John slowly backs the car up and drives out of the parking lot, taking the long route home. His delusion beside him finally sighs and sits back, and they both watch the road for a long while.

"They don't know what they're talking about, John. You're a genius. You always have been. It's _beyond_ them." Charles knows John well, and watches his face for an indicator for the response. Something flickers on the mathematician's face- sadness, and anger, but above all else, haunting fear.

Charles considered his statement answered. "It shouldn't matter to you, John," he says sternly, an exasperation flashing over is face. "You have your wife. _She_ understands." He frowns. "A little bit. She understands as much as someone who _hasn't_ been in your place _can_."

His lukewarm conviction is met with silence. "And you've got me, of course." Charles says softly. "You have me and Marzie. I'm not like Parcher. You know that. I'm here to help you. You don't need any of those others. We're _better_ then them."

John blinks again. He's paying attention, really listening now, and Charles smiles despite himself. "It hasn't changed since our times at Princeton. They're all still _idiots_, John."

A corner of John's mouth pulls upward. Charles smirks at him, satisfied, and looks out over the road again. Red trees line the road, and every once in a while, a leaf snaps off one of the branches and floats to the ground. He watches, interested, while John Nash continues driving, his eyes hardly leaving the road.

"You're like one of these oak trees," Charles murmurs sleepily. "You're all aloof. An' your leaves always come off in the autumn. But they always come back, because they need you. They just don't realize it then."

Silence.

He turns. "I'm not going to go away, you know. You're stuck with me. The prodigal roommate now... and forever. Sorry, old boy."

This threat is still met with nothing, and he turns around and faces the window, disappointed. But he is aware that John is now watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"Sometimes I wonder about you, John," he said, staring out at the autumn's oak trees again. "It's amazing... how much you've gone through." He pauses, tasting the words before he says them. "You... the original idea at Princeton... I mean..." he sighs. "You went to the Pentagon, and you met Alisha, and then Parcher showed up... thinking about it... your life has been pretty downright crappy." Charles takes a deep breath of air, and then lets it out at a great sigh.

"I'm surprised you haven't sworn me out, yet."

John's eyes flash in confusion, and he turns his head a fraction of an inch, but no more.

"I guess I am the same as Parcher, when you think about it," his hallucination says simply. "Which you probably have, of course. I bet you don't want me in your life." He presses his forehead against the cool glass pane. "I bet you hate me. I wouldn't blame you."

He turns back to the driver, his delusionist, his friend, and his icy blue eyes carry perfect sincerity in them. "You have tolerance for me. Why? Why is that? It's because I've been with you so long, I suppose." He rubs his nose with one hand. "Well, it doesn't matter. I don't hate you. You know those other people at Princeton? Those young minds? They can all go to hell, as far as I'm concerned. They can go to hell if they don't appreciate you."

He twists back to the window abruptly. "People in this world need people like you, John. Not just for the safety of their homes, not just for advances in technology. They need people like you to use as stepping stones because they're too weak to get what they want themselves. And you get through it. You haven't broken yet." He giggles, a weak, useless laugh that is swallowed by the irony in his voice.

"You're amazing, John Nash, whatever they think." He looks back out the window, a pink creeping across his cheeks.

John's eyes prick, and suddenly they brim with tears. "Of course I don't hate you, Charles. I love you," he whispers hastily, scrubbing at his face quickly to fend off the tears.

Charles looks taken aback, but only for a second. He had never expected John to actually respond. "I love you too, John." He's silent for a second, and then opens his mouth to speak hesitantly. But he soon snaps it back shut, and turns to look out the window.

They are silent the rest of the way home, but they both smile.

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_**Review please...**_


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